by Liliana Hart
Hank pursed his lips in thought. “How long was she missing?”
“Twenty-eight hours.”
“And Walter dismissed her that quickly?”
“He wasn’t exactly a doting father. I’m surprised he realized she was gone at all. The only reason he did was probably because his supper wasn’t on the table that night.”
Agatha sighed and leaned back in her chair, staring at the screens and the pictures there. “Nicole was a nice girl, but she wasn’t popular. She was a poor farm girl going to a school with the kids of congressmen and pro-athletes. Her uniforms were hand-me-downs, and she drove an old pick-up truck. According to George Mayfield, the boyfriend said the other girls were jealous of Nicole. She was beautiful and smart, and apparently the boyfriend was pretty popular. This made the mean girls even meaner. According to what little is in the report, these girls started so many rumors about Nicole that investigators were chasing false leads left and right.
“I want to know more about the father. Walter Green. How could he have hired this boy as a farm hand and not even know his name?”
Agatha shrugged. “It’s common out here. Transients, hobos, and ranch hands come and go.”
“How did Walter know the guy would come back to work each day?”
“They get paid in cash at the end of the work day. George said they looked long and hard at Walter Green, but they came up empty.”
“Has the field hand ever identified or found?”
“No.”
“Was an area search conducted for him?” Hank pressed.
“I just said he’s never been found.”
“I mean did they look for his body,” Hank said.
“Oh, I have no idea. I haven’t seen anything like that in any of the reports. And George didn’t mention it.”
“Do you think we can we gain access to the crime scene?”
Agatha laughed. “Let’s just say I lost a shoe out there a few weeks ago. I was lucky I didn’t lose my life.”
Hank’s eyes narrowed. “What happened?”
“Walter Green didn’t appreciate the fact I was trying to find his daughter’s killer. He ran me off with his combine tractor and a few rounds from his rifle. I’ve never been so scared in my life. And I really liked those shoes.”
“I doubt Coil would be able to get a search warrant for the area unless we come up with some new evidence.”
“I’ve got a drone,” Agatha said. “That’s what I used to take the current pics I have of the crime scene, but after eight years, the field hand’s body would be buried under so much muck and debris that it would be impossible to see anything from the air. That’s if the animals left us anything to see to begin with.”
Hank knew she had a point. “We’ve got to find another way to identify the field hand.”
“How?” Agatha asked.
“Nicole was sixteen. Sure, she was surrounded by mean girls. But girls that age have someone they can confide in. There’s always that one girl who sticks to the fringe of the popular crowd because she doesn’t want to become ostracized, but she doesn’t participate. Nicole would seek that girl out. They would be best friends.”
Agatha put a photograph on the screen. It was a group of twelve girls, and Nicole was on the end. It was a stark contrast to the autopsy photos he’d been looking at before.
“It’s a shame,” Agatha said with a sigh. “She was a beautiful girl with her whole life ahead of her, but she was a tortured soul on so many levels. These are the girls from what would have been her graduating class. Eight years ago. These girls would be finished with college now and beginning to make their nasty marks on the world.
“I know some of these girls. A couple of them are from Rusty Gun. The girl on the other end, that’s Rhonda Mitchell. She was part of a big scandal the following year. She had to drop thanks to an unexpected pregnancy.”
“Teenage pregnancy isn’t all that uncommon where I’m from.”
“Where, around here, when a local youth pastor knocks up a minor, it gets a little bit of attention.”
Hank’s eyes widened at that information, and then he looked at the picture again and the girl Nicole was standing next to. They had their arms around each other and their smiles were bright.
“This one,” Hank said. “She was Nicole’s confidant. We need to find her.”
Agatha’s fingers flew across her keyboard. “She’s already found. Sheena Walker.”
“You know, Aggie, as far as partners go. You’re not bad. How’d a writer end up having the instincts of a cop?
“It’s a long story, but the short version is I always wanted to be a writer, but when I went to college I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with myself. I didn’t want to be an English major or get a creative writing degree. So I decided the best thing I could do was get a degree where I could use the information I learned in my books. So I majored in forensic anthropology.
“It was exactly what I needed. I started writing about the crimes we studied in classes, and things went from there. I was so focused on my writing I actually quit school the semester before I was supposed to graduate. Fortunately, my first novel sold not long after.
I’ve been all over America researching cases. I helped solve some of the most notorious cold cases. But this one has given me nothing but trouble.”
“In that case, it’s a good thing you hired me,” Hank said. “Let’s go talk to Sheena Walker.”
Chapter Eight
Agatha made a sharp right and hit the accelerator, speeding down I-35 in her Jeep Wrangler.
“I think this is a quicker route,” she said.
“I think you left part of your muffler back there at that turn,” Hank said.
“Nah, this baby was made for off-roading. You need to relax. I know these roads like the back of my hand. It’s time to loosen up, Davidson. You’re in Texas now.”
“Is it always this hot?” Hank asked.
Agatha laughed. “Hot? It’s only May. This isn’t hot.”
She noticed he’d buttoned his shirt back up and put on his coat. He must be sweltering. His hair was damp at the temples, so she turned the A/C up to full blast.
Most of Rusty Gun was within walking distance. It was basically just one main street and a grid of fourteen blocks in each direction. But the unincorporated areas spread things out a bit. Bell County was expansive, yet sparsely populated.
Rusty Gun had been a main passage point along the famous Chisholm Trail, but they’d lost the bid to the neighboring town of Salado to build a bridge in the 1800s. Neither town ever saw much growth after that, as railroads bypassed each town to the north and south.
Sheena Walker had been Nicole Green’s friend, and they were hoping she could tell them some new information. Maybe something she’d remembered after so many years. Sheena worked at the Bell County Commissioners Livestock Auction and Trade Association, and they figured that was the best place to pin her down. They were out in the middle of nowhere.
The old Jeep bounced when Agatha exited the interstate for a dirt service road before making a sweeping left and curling back to the right for a giant, empty gravel parking lot. The land was vast and there were several metal barns and fenced areas where different auctions took place. Despite the location, the parking lot was crowded.
The gravel crunched beneath her tires and she spotted the empty parking spot on the front row. “Look at that,” she said. “It’s fate.”
“Or maybe everyone is terrified of your driving and decided to get out while they still can.”
She blew him a raspberry, but couldn’t help but grin. “It’s a good omen.”
There was a big sign and sidewalk that led up to the largest barn. It was completely enclosed, and she waited while Hank opened the door for her. A chime signaled and an artic blast greeted them.
“Lord, that feels good,” he said.
There was a reception area where those who were participating in the auctions could pay and get a number. And there
was a long plate glass window where they could see into a large arena. It smelled of livestock and hay.
“Bless you,” Agatha said as Hank sneezed. And then she said it again. “You going to be okay?”
“I will be once we get out of here,” he said. “Look, there’s Sheena.” Then he sneezed again.
Sheena approached. She was early twenties and several inches shorter than Agatha. Her skin was beautiful and smooth, the color of dark chocolate, and her smile was radiant. She wore jeans and a button-down work shirt with a pair of boots.
“Sheena? Hank asked, extending his hand.
“Yes, sir,” she said, taking his hand and shaking. “How can I help you?”
“Do you mind if we have a word? In private?”
“Are you with the state commission?” She asked, a look of concern on her face.
“No, are you expecting them?” Agatha asked, “We’ll be quick.”
“No,” she said. “I just saw that fancy suit and figured you had to be from somewhere official. Why don’t you come back to my office and we can take a few minutes? Where did you say you were from again?”
Her office was right in the front and glassed in so she could see everything happening from all sides. There were two chairs in front of her desk and a couple of pictures of her and her husband, one on their wedding day and another more casual at the park. Their smiles were beaming in both of them.
“We’re actually here about a friend of yours,” he said. “Nicole Green?”
Agatha knew the technique he was using. The best way to get a read on people was to surprise them with certain information. It often revealed more about the person they were interviewing than they wanted.
Sheena’s knees buckled and she grabbed on to the edge of her desk, and she dropped into her chair. Her eyes were wide and there was hope in them.
“Have you found him? The person who killed her?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“No,” Hank said. “I’m sorry. But we’re hoping to. We’ve reopened the investigation.”
Sheena nodded. “She was my best friend.”
“That’s why we’re here. We’re hoping you’ve remembered something over the years. Maybe something you didn’t mention the first time around.”
“Her death still haunts me,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “She deserves some peace. Poor thing never had peace her whole life. Maybe she can now that she’s dead.”
“The only thing that’s going to put this to an end is the truth,” he said.
Sheena nodded. “There were so many lies the first time around. All I can remember is the chaos and confusion. The gossip was out of control. None of it helped anyone. We all went our separate ways after graduation. I haven’t talked to them since then, though I see some of them on Facebook from time to time.
“Are you talking about these girls?” he asked.
“Yes. Can you believe they didn’t even attend her funeral service? What a group, huh? They were friends to your face and then they’d stab you in the back before you could even turn around. They were horrible to Nicole. But Nicole…she kept coming back for more. It was all she had. She said even bad attention was better than she usually got. Her daddy was horrible. I think he was abusive, but she’d never say. And then she hooked up with Ty and you’d have thought she found her ticket to salvation. Nicole was looking for someone to take her off of that farm. I don’t think she cared who it was with as long as it was far away.”
“I need to ask you a few questions,” Hank said. “I’ll apologize now because they might bring up painful memories, and I’ll also stop the moment you say enough. Okay?”
“Okay,” Sheena said, her voice monotone.
“You and Nicole were close?” Hank asked.
“Like sisters,” she said. “She was the poorest girl at school and I was the only black girl at school. We had a lot in common as we were both outsiders. My mama and daddy have more money than most of the families that attended, but it didn’t matter. They only saw what they wanted to see.”
“You said you thought her dad was abusive,” Hank said. “What made you say that?”
“Just little things. She’d never let me come to the house. She’d have bruises on her upper arms and sometimes her neck. They looked like fingerprints. You could tell she was scared of him. She spent as much time away from home as she could. It was amazing her grades were so good.
“I know the church tried to help her. She spent a lot of time there. I think she was praying for a better life. She said it was the only place she ever really felt true love.”
“Who gave her the hardest time?”
“Oh, gosh. They all did. Connie would tease her about her hand-me-down clothes. Georganne would steal her textbooks so she couldn’t study, or rip up her homework. Michelle was constantly making plays for her boyfriend, touching him and sending him notes so Nicole could see.
“How about Rhonda Mitchell?” Hank asked.
“I forgot about her. She left school after she got pregnant and I never saw her again.”
“It seems everyone knew about her pregnancy.”
Sheena snorted out a laugh. “Rhonda got herself full of what we like to call the unholy ghost. The youth pastor had a thing for teenage girls. We all heard the rumors, but no one ever had proof and none of the girls would ever rat him out. At least not until Rhonda became pregnant.”
“Did she and Nicole attend the same church?” He asked.
“Sure, almost everyone went to First Methodist.”
“You knew Nicole was involved with someone else, didn’t you?” Hank asked. “Someone she shouldn’t have been?”
Sheena’s mouth dropped open in surprise and she started to shake her head.
“Nicole is dead, Sheena. Keeping her secrets isn’t helping her anymore. We need to know who she was seeing.”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Please, Nicole.”
“I don’t know his name. I swear. But he was older, and she talked about how much he loved her and how special he made her feel. She said Ty had the money, but this guy had her heart. I think Rhonda found out about them. She was furious with Nicole about something. I saw them arguing. And she was brutal to Nicole from that moment on. I think Rhonda could have killed her. She was that angry.”
“Do you think Nicole was having sex with the same youth pastor that got Rhonda pregnant?”
Tears trickled from the corner of Sheena’s eyes. “All I can do is suspect. I don’t know. She said they’d have sex after church, so it was someone there. She was scared to death her daddy was going to find out. She said he’d kill them both if he ever did. And then they found her body and she was gone forever.”
Agatha reached out and squeezed Sheena’s hand, and she handed her a tissue.
“I’m sorry, Sheena,” Agatha said. “I know how hard this must be for you.”
Hank held up his phone and said, “I’ve got to take this call. Can you finish this up?” Agatha nodded, wondering what he was playing at. His phone hadn’t been ringing.
Agatha cleared her throat. “Do you know for a fact Walter Green killed Nicole?”
“No. It’s just what everyone said. But it makes sense. He was so awful.”
Agatha didn’t bother to let her know that he hadn’t changed much over the years.
“What about the guy that worked for Walter? The man that disappeared the same time that Nicole was killed? Do you know who he is?”
Sheena’s brow creased in thought. “I’ve got no idea.”
“Do you think he could have been the older man Nicole told you about?”
“I don’t think so,” Sheena said. “I saw that guy around a couple of times. The thing you’ve got to know about Nicole was she had a certain idea of what a guy should look like.”
“I don’t understand,” Agatha said.
“I’m just saying Ty was smokin’ hot. He was the hottest guy in school. And Nicole said the other guy was even better looking than Ty. A rea
l man, she called him. Said he even had a couple of tattoos.”
“Was the youth pastor up to Nicole’s standards?”
“I mean, don’t get me wrong. He was hot. But he was probably close to forty. He was just so old. I don’t see how she could’ve been attracted to him.
Agatha’s mouth pressed tight so she wouldn’t say anything to correct Sheena’s misconceptions about age.
“What about Rhonda? Did she have the baby?”
Sheena blew out a breath and winced. “Oh, she had the baby. But you can imagine the reception she had. Especially in our circles. Her parents disowned her. She was going to run off with the youth pastor, but he left town in the middle of the night. When the law finally caught up to him he’d already founded a cowboy church up in Wyoming. He had a new name and was doing the same kinds of things to the girls there. He ended up getting caught up there, and that’s when Sheriff Coil was able to get him brought back to Texas to stand trial. Rhonda took the baby to the courthouse every day, but the trial didn’t last long. He got life in prison.”
“The youth pastor is in prison? A local prison?” she asked excitedly.
“They sent him off around Palestine,” Sheena said. “It was in all the news.”
“You’ve been a big help, Sheena.”
She couldn’t wait to tell Hank. This was the first news she’d gotten on this case since she’d started it. Maybe Hank Davidson was her good luck charm.
“Do you remember the youth pastor’s name?”
“Jim, or James. I don’t remember a last name.”
“That’s okay. We can look him up in the prison’s directory.”
Sheena gripped her hand and shook her head. “You can’t go to the prison.”
“We won’t mention your name. I promise.”
“It’s not that,” Sheena said. “You know what they do to child molesters in prison?”
“Shoot,” Agatha said, a sinking feeling in her gut. “They killed him, didn’t they?”
“He didn’t even last two days.”
Chapter Nine
The elation and adrenaline of finding out new information wore off almost as soon as they’d gotten it. The drive back to Rusty Gun was made in silence, and Agatha turned off the alarm and kicked off her shoes by the door.